


Someday my pain

by aphrodite_mine



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Mind Reading, Non-consensual Power Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-12
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-02-12 19:39:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2122257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma can read Mystique like a book. Or something even louder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday my pain

Title: someday my pain  
Info: X-Men First Class, post movie. Mystique/Emma, power play. 523 words for prozacpark.

Mystique -- she thought of herself as Mystique now -- pushed herself to the edge of her hotel bed as Ms. Frost entered the room, pinching the bridge of her nose. She wasn't wearing much, though what she did have on was... lacy. Mystique figured she wasn't one to throw stones, exactly, despite the ensemble being a little tacky for just lying around the house (of course, there was... a distinct time when wearing that lying around the house _would_ be appropriate). She blushed, or rather, felt her cheeks heat up. She didn't pink up much in her blue -- her _natural_ \-- form. And really, being naked on a hotel bed, Mystique didn't have room to talk.

Ms. Frost -- as she'd instructed the "children" to call her -- shook her head. "Really, you should attempt to broadcast a _little_ less, dear." She leaned over, inspecting something on Mystique's boudoir. "I could hear you thinking down the hall. It's really quite unsettling."

"I -- I'm sorry," Mystique caught herself saying, despite never wanting to be sorry for anything ever again. She owed herself that, Erik had said. She didn't ever have to apologize. Ever.

Apparently, Ms. Frost had discovered what she was looking for, or wanted, and straightened up. Mystique tried to look away but her gaze kept drifting back to the fine lines of the woman's back. No one would ever know she was a mutant. 

"If you want me to say something about the state of you, you only have to ask, Raven."

Mystique frowned. "I don't need your approval." _And it's_ Mystique, she thought.

"Apparently you do. Those yellow eyes can be quite doleful." Ms. Frost shook her head again, and sat gently on the edge of the bed, not too close to Mystique but not too far away. "And practically every other thought you're _radiating_ is something to the tune of 'I wonder what they think of me' or 'I'm beautiful, I am' or my favorite, 'Erik says...'" Ms. Frost waved her hand. "Fill in the blank."

Mystique blinked, slowly, attempting to figure out _some_ sort of response. Charles had never read her mind, or at least, he had never made it known to her. She felt far more exposed by this woman sitting on her bed than she felt walking around the hotel, nude. "I didn't give you permission to do that." Her lips twisted into a kind of grimace.

"Yes, darling. But I didn't give you permission to utilize your native form, but that isn't stopping you, now, is it? Or is that what you want, dear Raven? Permission?"

"No, I--" Mystique stopped, sitting up abruptly. "You don't know anything about what I want."

"I'm sorry to contradict your very enthusiastic protest, but I'm afraid I do." Ms. Frost stood up at that, dismissing the conversation. She took a step towards the door, paused. "Don't look to me for permission, darling. I'm well aware you're getting that in spades from our _Magneto_." She placed a slender finger to her temple, turned quickly to smile (the chill of it made Mystique reach for her robe). 

_I'm beautiful. I am,_ Mystique thought, swallowing hard.


End file.
